Ever The Same
by piratesmiley
Summary: Peter/Olivia. "He had been on the brink of discovery the whole time he was here, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture."
1. We Were Drawn From The Weeds

A/N: I've written another monster. I'm really excited about this one. :)

Spoilers: ...Let's just say the whole season.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fringe.

* * *

_They are only children_, Peter realized. _We are only children._

The boy had always considered himself wise beyond his years, with an IQ of 190 and enough of a vocabulary to outsmart most of the guards in this place. He had been on the brink of discovery the whole time he was here, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture.

He figured it out when they paired him with her.

At first glance, she was sweet, soft, perfect like a baby doll. He called her that and his cheek irritated her — _I don't want to be a baby! _– but she endured it.

They were paired up after the accident.

--

"You have to trust me," Walter argues. It'd be easy to in a perfect world; granting him redemption would be a simple task. But Peter knows that this world is anything if not marred by flaws, and Walter isn't what he'd classify as worthy.

"We can't do that now, Walter. You need to tell us what's going on." She takes command, she always does. He doesn't understand what's so _right_ about that, why the sentiment of her brashness is so correct, but he accepts it.

He accepts everything she says. She's transparent enough that he knows she doesn't lie.

"You both need to go in – it's the only way." And Walters got that restless voice on again, and soon he'll be barreling on about the world's refusal of acceptance and how he deserves more than that, being who he is and all.

"Absolutely not." Something's changed, Peter can feel it. "I am not going back in the tank, Walter. Any trust you've built is gone now." She is as resolute as the sky is perceived as blue.

"Fine," Walter says stiffly. "Then I must find the video."


	2. We Were Brave Like Soldiers

A/N: I probably should have mentioned before that as far as my knowledge goes, this is slightly AU. Thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

Rumors had flashed through the children — _man on fire, man on fire _– but Peter wasn't particularly interested at first. In his darker moments, Walter had told him he had the brain of a criminal, of a con, so naturally Peter was thinking about where he was going to sneak out to tonight.

Contrary to his previous belief, Peter found the general populace quite interesting. He liked to hide in plain sight and feel their thoughts, take a step or two in their shoes. Commonalities were suddenly fascinating.

But there was no way he could leave on that night, with such a ruckus four rooms down the bleak hall. He sat in the middle of his stark white sheets, metal framed bed—_too much like a prison_—and closed his eyes, giving over to the pull of the tenors and basses down the hall.

And once he caught the startling soprano, he could see everything.

--

Walter shuffles through the lab quickly, leading them toward the piles of boxes and files, avoiding them all until he is in the very back corner of the room. He throws himself down on the floor, flipping open a loose board to reveal a myriad of video tapes.

"Walter." Peter wants an explanation, _now_, but he isn't going to get it. Walter is too busy looking for proof to back up his frustratingly unspoken memories.

Peter and Olivia exchange looks of confusion. It's the first time she's looked at him since this conversation started, and he's grateful for it, because he can catch a little bit clearer what she's thinking.

She's scared.

Walter turns to look at them, tape in his hand.


	3. Falling Down

Peter wasn't supposed to have been in the trials at all, but William Bell was an insatiable scientist and when things weren't working, he just had to try. Peter was asleep when the injection was given, but he was definitely awake when the shot coursed through his veins. So much pain for such little result in most led to a proof positive in the boy, and Bell delighted in that, sitting in his room while he shook and shuddered madly. He was feeling so much at the same time, thoughts and senses assaulting his child brain and making him scream bloody murder until he was shot with a sedative.

It was undeniable that it worked now — mostly there was no special brain function in the test subjects, but there had been a few cases with similar results to Peter's.

Bell caught him before he passed out. "What you see, what you feel — it makes you special, Peter. You're going to help us one day. You're going to…"

--

Olivia puts a hand in front of the opening slot of the VCR, and Walter looks up in confusion.

"I want to know what this is about, Walter."

His face falls in despair, and Olivia looks frightened enough by the change to want to take the question back and hide it away, never to be seen again. Walter's voice shakes, tears pool, and Peter is hit with a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Both of you were treated with Cortexiphan, not just you, Agent Dunham. It was the two of you, always the two…"

Peter is blown away, stunned to have been brought into this farther than his duties as translator.

_How could he have done this to his own son?_

"You're saying Peter was treated with Cortexiphan as well?" Olivia can't believe it either, and Peter can sense her heart sinking.

His first reaction is to deny it – _of course not, that's impossible _— but his mind already corrects him, telling him that it _is_ possible, he's always felt different, _always_…


	4. Under The Pale Moonlight

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! This will be the last update before the finale...are you guys ready for tonight? I definitely am. :)

* * *

It was a few months after his first injection, after he had snuck out his first, second, third, countless times, when the incident happened. They knew it was dangerous, but her partner was removed from her, kicking and screaming to stay but frightened enough to finally let them take him elsewhere.

They never gave Peter a partner. Apparently the buddy system didn't apply to the scientist's son.

Until that night, of course.

Bell played an opposite role, telling Walter that it wasn't safe to put Peter in there, that he might go like the guard did, but Walter had something that Bell had never developed — faith. And it was that faith that would later make his life hell on a daily basis.

They ushered him in, and she looked at him, and he looked at her. Their eyes met and the room exploded.

--

Walter didn't say anything more, but Olivia's hand fell away, shocked, and he stuffed the tape in, revealing the charred walls and the little girl sitting in the center.

"_It's okay. It's alright now. Nobody is angry with you. You didn't do anything bad. It's alright Olive... everything's going to be okay._" It is Walter, he is speaking to Olivia, but not in truth, not really. He's speaking to console himself.

"_We can't bring him in, Walter_._ It's too much of a risk._" That voice … things are rushing back. He doesn't have to look at Olivia to know.

"_It's necessary. You won't hurt him, will you, Olive?_" Walter's voice resonates, and little Olivia doesn't answer, just stares blankly.

"_Walter—!_" But the camera stops for a moment and turns back on.

There he is. Peter had never imagined that his worst nightmare would be himself.

There's a pause, and then young Peter bursts into flames.


	5. You Were Holding Me Like Someone Broken

A/N: My mother guessed the BIG HUGE FREAKING PETER SPOILER half way though the episode. I didn't expect her to be right. :( So, more now, since I am almost officially AU. Sad, isn't it?

* * *

And yet, he didn't burn. He felt extremely warm, and he was covered head to toe in fire, but he did not burn. There were shouts, but Peter couldn't distinguish them over the roar of flames.

He kept his eyes on her, catching her meaning, feeling a dilution of her terror, and so he walked closer and sat down next to her. His own flames burned the walls now.

Peter grabbed Olivia's hand. The fire stopped.

--

The people on the screen rushed forward, but halted suddenly. "_Don't come closer_." Peter's child voice rang out. "_She's not ready to stop yet_." They all back up. There was a long wait as the tension in Olivia's face subsided, and at one point Walter spoke up.

"_Is she ready, now?_"

Peter's innocent face contorted. "_What did you do to her?_"

Olivia Dunham, all grown up, starts to cry.

--

"Is she ready now, Peter?" His father's voice was more gruff, commanding, and Peter was revolted.

"Don't come closer." Peter feared for the girl's life. The images, the emotions, flying through her head and now his, are disturbing to say the least. She started to shake again, so Peter took her other little hand in his, fostering his newfound calming ability to soothe her.

--

Peter has the undeniable urge to take Olivia's hand again, but he refrains, knowing what she'll do. This is a lot to take in, for her, for both of them.

_What are we even supposed to _do_ now?_

Walter speaks, finally. "We tested the two of you for partnership, and that's the way it remained."

Olivia takes a step backward.

"You were all given a two-in-one drug before released: a memory suppressant, and a Cortexiphan inhibitor, to stop the release until reactivation."

She takes another step backwards. Peter stares at his hands.

There are a few more long pauses before Walter tells another secret. "I can reactivate you."


	6. We Would Stand In The Wind

A/N: Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

He had to wait two whole months before he could take her out.

They had put them both under careful observation, running test after test, and every time he felt her fear he held her hand.

But he had been dying to try, to see if his cunning extended to her, if she could pull off what they needed to escape for a night. In those two months, Peter learned that he _needed_, so very desperately, to get out, hit the road, leave and be gone. The urge for flight was in his DNA.

When he told her his idea, Olivia smiled for the first time since they met, lighting up her face and making the invisible pounds on her delicate shoulders vanish. He loved that he could do that, maybe even more than he loved escaping that place, so he promised himself he would do it over and over again.

--

Peter bolts for the door.

There's no chance in he's bring back some freaky supernatural power he had stored up in his brain, hell bent on ruining his meager existence. And the fact that Walter had basically been lying to him for his whole life, well, that is just icing on top of this extremely bitter cake.

He's half way to the door when he hears.

"You can't leave."

He's about to turn around and tell Olivia exactly what he can and can't do, but before he can move a muscle she speaks again.

"You can't leave me."

Then he catches it — the fear, the loneliness, the anxiety at his departure, the longing for him to stay. This is serious. This is real.

He shakes off the fact that he just used some partial remnant of his superfluous superpower to feel that with her, and instead returns to her side.

Without thinking, she grabs his hand.


	7. We Were Free Like Water Flowing Down

A/N: Any Bones fans here? It's finale time. :) Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

Freedom suited her.

The sun glinted off of her golden locks where it washed over them in a sliver of their hiding place. She was bright, her smile formed in genuine happiness. And he held her hand, as always, feeling her diverse myriad. It was a rare sight, to watch her like this.

She too felt the wonder in watching people – the normalcy of friends, families, mothers, daughters, fathers, brothers, birds, dogs, green plush life, flowers, trees, people riding cars, bikes, walking and moving and dancing in the street, so_ free_.

Everything _glowed_, red, yellow, gold with the rays.

"Like magic."

Now he wanted to run and take her with him.

Hiding wasn't a problem; many of his spaces were big enough for two children and out of the way so no one could possibly see. He planned well.

And when it was time to go, when her face fell, he felt her pain. But this is the way they lived, always observing, never interacting, always returning to their cells by night.

--

"Is there a way to access those memories without bringing back the … side effects?" She is stiff, holding his hand tightly, shocked by her previous display of emotion. She really just needs something to ground her now, a resolute response. And by holding on to him, she might get it—she might also get a whole lot more. She has to make the decision.

As for him … his mind is made up. He stares at their interlocking fingers. He remembers things he shouldn't. He's okay with that.

"Let me warn you – eventually, the power must be released. You will be reactivated, whether you like it or not."

Olivia's face is frozen, so Peter frowns.

"As for the memories … you two will need to be reacquainted."


	8. Under The Warmth Of The Sun

A/N: This is the end. I'm contemplating writing an epilogue and/or a sequel, but I'm not sure yet. Thanks for the reviews! :)

* * *

He wanted to marry her. He knew they were both abnormal, but they were perfect for each other. Why shouldn't they get married?

What Peter had in intelligence, he lacked in emotional skills. Being locked up in this place from such a young age stunted him tragically, and the two of them growing up here was an unfulfilling experience, to say the least. Consequently, Peter was very unaware; he very innocently thought he was in love. He liked Olivia – she was his best friend, his partner. He thought it was a good idea to marry his best friend.

Maybe he was in love; maybe, essentially, that was puppy love, the only time he'd been with someone and it was a real relationship — which is sad, considering how young he was and how much older he is now. But that's what kids think – that getting married is what you and your best friend do when you get old. And even though they are children, they are damn good with romanticism, thinking the purest and rarest of thoughts.

Childishly, idealistically, innocently, he thought of it every day. Because children don't know words like _broken_ and _hurt_.

--

They opt not to have Walter present while they feel this new discovery out. They are awkward, they aren't really sure how this works, and yet any barrier between them has vanished.

He holds her hand. Always. She won't let go, she is too scared now.

He needs to say something, _now_. The first thing that pops into his head is "I can't believe you set me on fire."

"Sorry," but she doesn't feel right apologizing for something she only sees, never remembers.

"That's pretty cool, actually, if you think about it. You set me on fire"—she grins at the innuendo he most obviously intended and ducks her head—"and I'm completely resistant."

She murmurs in agreement because she can't really wrap her brain around this.

_What am I supposed to say?_ She thinks.

"I don't know," Peter answers truthfully. And she knows he's answering because he's staring at her with those eyes and that face and he's riveted on her.

She's shocked at that, pausing for a moment, but she knows what to say now. "You know me." Stunned, she's never been able to say that about anyone before. This feeling of partnership is mutual and beautiful; he's experiencing it through her, inside her. "You know me."

"I can feel that." The words are strange out of his mouth, but true.

"How? Your … power is locked up."

"It's just you," He assures, "I can only feel you."

And then they are way too close for comfort, and the lone option they have is to lean in a little farther. One hand in hers, one cupping face. And suddenly everything explodes again, he can feel anything, everything, all inside her. He can feel her love, her commitment, her trust. It has been sitting there just below the surface for too long. He can't believe that all he had to do was hold her hand and he'd have been feeling all of this earth-shaking emotion a long time ago.

She sighs, he smiles, and they are connected again.


	9. Epilogue

A/N: This teensy thing is my epilogue, which I actually wrote while at a standstill with my last chapter. I hope you like it!

* * *

With John, she had been forced to say it. She had heard him, and she had frozen and panicked and then leaned in for a kiss, pleased to be wanted but utterly confused. He had just decided this. How was she supposed to do the same thing? So she left for work almost gladly, wanting to escape, just for a bit, the dry heat of his gaze. And so she waited, and it floated in the back of her mind, and to the next day, and then the next night. Then she made herself do it. She said the words that bound them, because it had to be true – _right?_ – and bound her to eventual tragedy and heartache.

But with Peter, it was completely different. She didn't have to say anything if he could feel it inside her already. He could touch her face and feel her love, brush his hand against her knee and feel desire, hold her hand and feel trust. She wasn't required to do anything; she didn't have to fake it or bring it on prematurely.

She feels, so he feels. And that is real.


End file.
